Chapter 5 Still Trying to Run?
Layla looked up and saw Samuel standing behind her, strong and imposing.
She was stunned. She didn't expect him to step in.
Samuel flung the guy's hand away.
"Who... who are you to butt in?" the red-haired kid yelled, clutching his hand.
"No one messes with me," Samuel said coldly, his brow furrowed.
"Sir, he's Mr. Holland. We should go."
"Mr. Holland? I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." The red-haired kid quickly bowed and ran off.
"Owen..."
"None of your business," Owen snapped, pushing Layla's hand away and leaving.
Layla swallowed her bitterness, said, "Thanks," and walked off.
"Mr. Holland's first time playing hero, but the little bunny didn't appreciate it," Joseph teased.
Samuel wasn't one to meddle. If he didn't want to get involved, he wouldn't care even if the little bunny was stripped naked in front of him.
So, was he interested in her?
Weird. Samuel didn't mess with women, right?
It was just a game; the Holland family heir, Samuel, was too smart to get involved with a barmaid.
Plus, he was engaged.
At 3 AM, Layla finally left the noisy bar.
Headache, ringing ears, and an even more exhausted heart.
She and Owen were half-siblings. Owen was spoiled by their parents, unambitious, and always causing trouble. Their relationship was terrible.
But tonight, he let those rich kids harass her, making Layla feel awful. No matter what, they were family. At least, she considered him her brother.
A sudden black Rolls-Royce horn interrupted her thoughts, the back window rolled down, revealing that cold face.
"Get in," Samuel said. He didn't understand why he was worried she might get bullied, waiting here all this time.
Seeing the little bunny walk out looking dejected, he couldn't help but call out to her.
It's him again, that male prostitute！
Layla was in a bad mood and didn't want to deal with him.
She quickened her pace, heard the car door open behind her, and started to jog.
"Get in willingly, or I'll drag you in."
A hand grabbed her backpack from behind.
"Let go of me," Layla struggled.
"Still running? Believe it or not, I'll break your legs?" Samuel pinned her against the wall, her hands above her head.
Women usually flocked to him. This was the first time he chased after one. She had broken many of his "firsts."
Layla, like a bird with broken wings, could only twist her body. "Let go, or I'll call the cops!"
"Go ahead."
Layla's eyes flared with anger. "You think playing the domineering CEO makes you one? You're just a male prostitute; what are you so arrogant about?"
She still thought he was a male prostitute. Samuel was suddenly curious about her reaction when she found out his true identity. It would be quite a show.
"Get in the car; I have something to say."
"We're even now. I've got nothing more to say to you."
Samuel had no patience for her words and directly shoved her into the car.
"Let go of me."
"Help—"
"My shoe!"
Layla's canvas shoe had already been kicked off as the car started moving.
The car's super fancy interior, complete with a starlit ceiling, had a romantic charm that left Layla so amazed she forgot to be mad.
Her wide-eyed look was kind of cute, especially since Samuel hadn't been around someone so "unsophisticated" in years.
"If you like it, I'll take it down and send it to you so you can admire it at home."
Layla snapped back, annoyed. "Who cares? Your business must be doing great, huh?"
"Driving such an expensive car, sitting in VIP booths, drinking million-dollar wine. Your services must cost a fortune?"
"Not too bad. Just a few million dollars a minute, give or take."
"Among the people you serve, am I the poorest? You won't get any money out of me."
"How about repaying with your own body?" Samuel said, amused.
Layla blushed and gritted her teeth. "I won't sell myself like you do."
"Even that line of work has its standards."
Layla was momentarily speechless.
"Don't let me catch you in this bar or any other bar again," Samuel warned.
"What gives you the right to interfere with me?"
Just because he's Samuel!
"If you dare come to a bar again, I'll notify your school. I doubt your prestigious school would give a scholarship to a student working in a bar."
"You don't even know which school I go to! Are you stalking me?" Layla was getting anxious.
"You just need to know that if I find out, I'll inform your school," Samuel squinted his eyes.
"What exactly do you want?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
'He can't be the type to force girls into sex work, right?' Layla's heart was pounding, and she regretted getting involved with him.
The Rolls-Royce stopped at the school gate.
"Mr. Holland, we're here."
Samuel grabbed it and pressed her back into the seat when Layla's anxious hand had just touched the car door.